In the end I have to admit this minimalist look is kind of depressing. Maybe I should buy an ottoman.
Robert McGinnis does his usual flawless work on this cover for Erle Stanley Gardner's The Case of the Bigamous Spouse. Many summaries of this online, but briefly, it's about a door-to-door saleswoman who is implicated in the murder of her best friend's new husband, who was married to two women. Rest assured, Perry Mason sorts it all out as perfectly as McGinnis sorted out this cover.
This is my disappointed face. You know why I'm making this face? Because I'm fucking disappointed is why.
Originally written by the mysterious B. Traven and published in 1927, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre appeared in the above Pocket Books version in 1948 with Barye Phillips on the cover chores. We have to say, he did a bang-up job capturing Bogart's world weary mug. You already know the story in this book: lust for riches lays a greedy man low. But it's a particularly good riff on that theme. A highly recommended read.
It looks like she tried to write her killer's name. Quick—check the passenger manifest for anyone named Arrrghh...
Frank Bunce's So Young a Body has a great premise—an everyman named Peabody Humble who's tired of being normal decides while on a cruise to tell people he's a hard-boiled detective rather than a boring old accountant. But when a passenger is murdered the captain turns to Humble to solve the crime. Luckily, instant sidekick Dorit Bly is on hand to help him over the rough patches with her outgoing nature and photographic memory. Fully as fun as it sounds, but the series you'd expect to have been launched from this novel never materialized, sadly. Originally published by Simon and Schuster in 1950, this Pocket Books edition adorned with Cass Norwalsh cover art appeared in 1951. The 1952 British edition from Pocket was completely different. See below. We have to thank Monty Python for the subhead, by the way. You've all obviously seen Holy Grail like five or six times, right?
McGinnis makes waves with his art.
It's always a good idea to regularly revisit the work of Robert McGinnis. Above you see his cover for Erle Stanley Gardner's The Case of the Demure Defendant, originally published in 1954 with this Pocket Books paperback appearing in 1964. We love the psychedelic direction McGinnis goes with the ripples in the pond, alternating rings of turquoise and violet. This is fantastic work.
I hear the falcon is nice and all, but darlin’, these ankle strap pumps of yours are to die for.
Of the many covers for Dashiell Hammett’s classic The Maltese Falcon, this version painted by Stanley Meltzoff is one of our favorites. It’s from 1945 and is a dust sleeve for a paperback, a rarity that explains why it goes for $100 and up, generally. We’ve even seen it listed for $250. Beneath the Meltzoff sleeve is a cover by Leo Manso, the famed collagist and abstract artist, which he first painted for the 1944 paperback edition. You can see an example of that here. The Meltzoff sleeve was supposedly controversial at the time due to the Brigid O’Shaughnessy character removing her bra. We didn’t notice that at first, to tell you the truth—our eyes moved right to that triangle of darkness where we see Sam Spade’s hands as he assesses a pair of red pumps. Lovingly, we think. Almost like he wants to keep them. Or are we reading too much into this one?
Your honor, defense concedes the victim died of suffocation by pillow, but we contend it had no human cause.
The Deadly Climate is a 1955 mystery by Ursula Curtiss, the story of a woman who thinks she’s seen a murder in the woods, but since she can’t identify the killer, and the body has vanished, nobody believes her. But of course meantime the murderer is lurking with plans to eliminate her as a witness. There are many good reviews around the internet on this one. Art is by James Meese.
Give a girl a light? You’ll have to lean down here, though. If I come up there I’ll start flopping around something awful.
We love this Ray App cover for John Ross MacDonald’s, aka Kenneth Millar's mystery The Drowning Pool because it’s incredibly bizarre. Plot of the book aside (it’s the second Lew Archer novel), there can be only two reasons for the female figure to be positioned as she is—she’s either standing in a rowboat, presumably for the pure pleasure of it, or she’s trying to conceal her mermaid half. She shouldn’t worry about hiding, though—generally guys don’t hang around the docks unless they’re at least a little interested in seafood. 1950 original copyright, and 1951 on the paperback.
I don’t know what you think you’re doing out there, but supper better be on the table in three minutes or you’re in big trouble.
For some reason when we first saw this cover it just screamed fed-up homemaker to us. Probably because we have this thing about guys in suits. We just know they’re always up to no good. But the art, which is by Ray App, actually depicts a woman who thinks a detective has failed to properly investigate the death of her husband. The moment is basically: “Re-open the case or I’ll jump.” We prefer our interpretation.
Hmph. You’re absolutely right, baby. That new razor left no sign whatsoever of your chick-stache.
Above, the cover of Pocket Books’ 1946 edition of W. Somerset Maugham’s classic novel The Razor’s Edge, with Troop art seeming to depict the moment a woman triumphs over her unsightly facial hair. It’ll grow back, of course, but 5 o’clock is hours away. Kiss her you fool! Seriously though, this is one of our favorite books, and it’s probably at least 25% percent of the reason we keep wandering place to place, country to country. It isn’t pulp, but it’s a damn good read. Highly recommended.
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